"You may be right, I may be CRAZY. But is just may be a lunatic you're looking for."

Most couples have a song. And, generally speaking, that song is romantic.

Billy Joel's You May Be Right is our song.



Even after nearly 9 years of marriage we frequently quote the lyrics to each other. "If I'm crazy then it's true, that it's all because of you, and you wouldn't want me any other way." That's just the way we roll.

And, truth be told, we both are a little crazy. But we are each our own unique brand of crazy, and somehow we compliment each other perfectly.

My husband is the type who washes his hands 10 times after being in a public place, and who will drive around the block 3 times just to MAKE SURE he closed the garage. He also MUST hear the beep the sound makes when you lock the car from the keyless entry 3 times before he is REALLY SURE the car is actually locked.

Me, on the other hand, will often walk out of Target only to find I never actually locked the car.

I have my own version of crazy though. For instance, when I was packing for our Disneyland vacation I would pick one day's clothes for a child (Shirt, pants, socks, underwear) and then roll that day's clothing all together, put the whole roll down in a gallon size zip lock bag, and then write the child's name on the bag. (Yes, I really did that!!!) That way each day I could quickly account for if I had packed enough clothes for everybody, plus then each day on vacation I pulled out one bag for each child and just handed it to them and knew they had everything they needed to get dressed.

So yesterday I called my sister-in-law and told her that packing to move was bringing out all my crazy. I said "I always knew I was a little OCD....." to which she proceeded to laugh hysterically, then between tears said "I love that you think you're just a little crazy." (I'd be offended, except that she is right!)

See, I was packing toys yesterday, and I couldn't bring myself to just toss all the toys together in a big box. I would first pack each individual type of toy in it's own zip-loc bag and then put the bags into a bigger box.



So as I sat on the floor of my daughter's room separating Fairy shoes from Princess shoes (because heaven forbid fairies should mingle with princesses) I realized just how crazy I really am.

Even the baby dolls got packed away in their own bags to keep them from getting dusty or dirty.



And yes, I do get that it looks like they are in body bags. Which amuses me to no end, which also makes me a little crazy.

Last week I had packed all the Lightening McQueen-type cars and toys, and clearly labeled the box. Then taped up the box and moved it to the basement.



Then yesterday, way in the back of a closet, I found Flo.



A normal person would've just tossed her in with the Hot Wheels since there is an entire box of them as well, and that box isn't sealed up. But no, my OCD required that I go downstairs, cut open the already sealed box, dig to the bottom to find the cars that are just this size, open the zip-loc bag, place Flo inside, reseal the bag, repack the box, then reseal the box.

Yup! You may be right, I may be crazy!!!!